


A new daughter for Jethro

by Musichick2004



Series: Old and New [19]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Adoption, Anger, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Orphan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:52:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7938754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musichick2004/pseuds/Musichick2004
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jethro has to deal with his grief and the fact that he's gaining another daughter. He always wanted more kids, but not this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A new daughter for Jethro

Jethro always wanted kids. Plural. Shannon too, but after two miscarriages, especially since he’d been overseas for both, they stopped trying. He’d been happy with Kelly, and if he never met another child he’d have been happy. But then there was Anna. And then Tony met Talia and then he started talking about having another with Abby and Katherine. And Jethro's old feelings surged. Maybe it was an Alpha male thing. A need to procreate, a desire to guard and protect the vulnerable, but damnit, he’d yearned for more.

He’d spent the last 4 months at home with Anna for all but 2 weeks. A sniper in St. Louis was targeting single mothers, and he was convinced when an Agent Hotchner called, instead of some muckety muck politico. He talked with Abby and Katherine about it, helped find the killer, then shut his 'work’ phone off for the next 3 weeks. He  _ liked _ being home. He  _ loved _ protecting his family. He was ok with letting others protect other families. Finally, he knew he was ok with his new life. Maybe he’d turn into some dusty old legend, forgotten after McGee and Bishop grew and the team turned over completely, but he’d have his baby. His babies. He didn't tell Tony how much he wanted Talia there, how excited he was at the thought of possibly having three kids under his roof.

But he never wanted it this way. After the paperwork was completed, he’d have two daughters. And a complex visitation schedule with grandparents who despised him. And one daughter would have both of her parents, while the other had now lost both.

The funeral was hard. A hoarde of people standing around in black suits, acting like they cared. Jethro couldn't stay to watch the show. That's all it was, a show. People who didn't care, schmoozing in the hopes of getting into someone,  _ anyone’s _ good graces. He’d been to many an agent’s funeral. Far too many. And this was just like any other. Except he knew the man being lowered into the ground.  _ Had _ known him. Drank with him, laughed with him, grieved with him, and now he’d be raising his only daughter.

He skipped his meeting with Charlotte and headed to the bar. Their bar. He sat at the bar stool and stared at the seat beside him, half expecting a snarky comment about taking a picture, because it’d last longer.

“Long time, no see, Gibbs.” The bartender approached with a glass and Jethro nodded as he began to pour the bourbon. “Where's your partner in crime?”

Jethro took a long swallow and shook his head. “Supposed to have been a desk job. Moron still got himself shot.”

“How long's he out for?” The bartender obviously assumed he was hospitalized.

“Ever. He’s dead.” Jetto finished his drink and motioned for another.

“Shit. These two are on me, man.” He poured a very generous glass and left Jethro the bottle.

Jethro sat at the bar until he was too drunk to stand. Tomorrow he’d have to be ok. Tomorrow he’d pick her up and hold her and tell her it would be ok. But that was tomorrow. Fortunately, the bartender had already taken his keys and was reaching for his phone. “Speed dial?”

“One.” Jethro responded automatically. “No, wait, three. Three. Name’s Tim.” He debated dialing speed dial ‘one’ anyway, just to hear Tony's voice as the voicemail picked up, but he just flopped his head onto the bar. McGee would be quiet, at least. He wouldn't be pushy like Vance, or timid like Bishop. And he wouldn't give him the looks he got from Katherine. He didn't need the looks.

“Come on Boss.” Jethro startled when he felt the hand on his shoulder and heard McGee close to his ear. He nodded and let Tim guide him to his car, grabbing the challenger's keys from the bartender. “My car's pretty crappy, so we'll leave it here tonight. Yours is more likely to be stolen.” Leave it to McGeek to think of something like that.

McGeek.

“I wish Tony were here.” He croaked, his voice raspy from the alcohol.

“Me too.” Tim gripped the steering wheel of the yellow muscle car and headed toward his apartment. Jethro was already passed out in the passenger seat.

The sun hit Jethro like a spotlight and he rubbed his eyes and groaned as his alarm blared. And  _ Jesus _ his back. _ What the hell? _ He looked around and quickly recognized his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was walking out of the bar with McGee, and now he was lying on the man’s sofa, half clothed, with... bruises on his wrist? Bruises that obviously came from a hand wrapped around him.

“Sorry 'bout that.” Tim tossed Jethro a clean t-shirt as he stood in the bathroom doorway brushing his teeth. “You tried punching a wall. Alcohol increases the risk of bruising, but I figured a bruise would be better than broken knuckles.”

Jethro scoffed. He thought about the times he’d left bruises just like these on Tony, and rubbed the sore skin. “I should go.”

“Not 'til we get my car. Five minutes.” McGee disappeared into the bathroom and Jethro donned the shirt and his jeans from the day before.

He was glad he called McGee. He’d grown up a lot in such a short time. And life was short. So when he emerged from the bathroom, he told him so. “Thanks, Tim. You know I'm proud of you, right?”

McGee blushed and shrugged, “I guess. Enough to scrape you off a bar at 2am.”

Jethro crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, “I mean it. You'll do great with the team. Tony would be proud too.”

McGee blinked slowly and nodded. He didn't accept compliments well, but throwing Tony into the mix wasn't fair. Maybe if McGee  _ hadn't _ done so well, he'd have come back.

“And you're a damn good man. Anyone would be proud to call you family.”

McGee grabbed his coat and Jethro's keys and slammed open the front door, not waiting for the slightly hungover man behind him. Family was a sore subject with him, and he wasn't about to sit and be all bashful about it anymore.

An hour later, Jethro stepped out of his shower and was staring at the ring on his left hand. Whenever he'd thought about raising kids, he'd never pictured doing it alone. Yeah, Katherine and Abby were there, but he was still alone. He didn't know how to do this by himself. He slammed his hand down onto the counter and cringed as the corner cut into his hand.

“Need some gauze for that?” Jethro instinctively reached for his weapon, smearing blood across his towel and quickly realizing it was locked in the safe. His breathing picked up when he looked in the mirror and saw Tony standing behind him. A sad smile on his face, and gauze in his hand. Jethro nodded and held out his hand, not wanting to ruin Tony's suit in his affections.

“How’d you know?”

“Your best friend is killed, I made an educated guess you'd do something like this.” He paused long enough to finish taping Jethro's hand, then kissed the bandage. “We came as soon as I could.”

“We?” Jethro was stunned.

“She’s with my dad right now. But yeah,  _ we _ . I'm here for you and Emily. And then, when you're ready, maybe we’ll have dinner. I know it’s a lot, but I couldn't leave her there for that long.” Tony just stood with him.

“How long?” Jethro wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. Tobias was an ass, but he was gone, and he didn't want to think about Tony leaving too.

“As long as you need.”

Jethro shook his head, “I  _ need _ you for good, Tony.”  _ But a week will have to do. _ He said to himself, pulling his hand back to check the damage to the towel.

“Ok.”

Jethro stopped and looked at Tony, “OK?”

Tony nodded. “Put in my last month's rent last week. I have until Friday to decide if I want to renew and stay month to month, or get my stuff out. I got the job here in DC, so…”

“You're coming home?” Jethro hated the joy that tugged at his heart. He should be grieving.

“If we need some time, I have enough to stay at Adams house for a while, maybe get back to  _ us _ .” Tony suggested.

Jethro gently cuffed him on the back of the head. “No more running, DiNozzo. Come home.”

Tony nodded. “Let's go talk to Em. I can't imagine what Diane’s family has been saying about you.”

“You don't want to know. They hated me when we were married. They're  _ pissed _ that even Diane agreed to give me custody if anything ever happened to them both. Apparently from the day she was born. Never knew that.” Jethro hung his head and inhaled deeply. Diane was a pain in the ass, and obnoxious and awful to be married to, but they did love each other once.

“Because you're a great dad.” Tony wrapped Jethro in his arms and wiggled a little, just like Abby, and Jethro smirked and shook his head.

“And how the hell would they have known that back then?”

“She said you broke up because you were still in love with Shannon. If  _ anyone _ heard you talk about your girls, they’d see how devoted you are.” He glanced at the family portraits hanging on the wall in their bedroom. One was nearly 30 years old, one was from about a year ago. Jethro was smiling brightly and obviously happy in both. “Now let’s go take care of Emily, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Muse toned this WAY down from the awfulness it was before. Since she gave in and brought Tony back early, because I'm a sucker, we couldn't be as mean as was originally planned. There was supposed to have been like 6 months with zero communication from Tony, then this as the start of their fixing things, but I'm too soft for the boys.


End file.
